And your gaze strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the

eyes like a sword. A rose cries out of love. A rose cries out of love, and a white butterfly serves to wipe away its tears. After flying for so long, thirsty from so much flying, in a pool of clear water a lark drinks the sky. On that day back when we were young*, I told you to come with me, but you didn't want to, but you didn't want to. No, you didn't want to. And your gaze strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword. And your gaze strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword. And your gaze strikes me in the eyes like a sword. And the train of my joy leaves, it leaves, but I have no other dream but your gaze. And your gaze, the shackles of my torment, a severed rose... At dawn, as I dream of your eyes, I can't tear myself away from your gaze. And your gaze strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword, strikes me in the eyes like a sword.